


Sing Me A Song

by Languid_Victorian_Poetess



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Background Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Crack, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Mutual Pining, Platonic Relationships, Random Song Challenge, Song Lyrics, in other news I still write a victorian but it's shorter, look this fic just has everything okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 5,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Languid_Victorian_Poetess/pseuds/Languid_Victorian_Poetess
Summary: A mix of canon and AUs to fulfill a song fic challenge across a variety of relationships just for fun.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 3





	1. Honeybee by The Head and the Heart - Morrison/Nasir

**Author's Note:**

> This is subtitled with my practice at short fics, except a lot of them just get longer as you go on. They're all pretty short though.
> 
> Bonus points to anyone that can find the lyric in all 16 chapters! This may or may not get a part 2 at some point, but this is the finished version.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this short disaster!

Love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always perfect. It was messy and tangled, sometimes a little broken, sometimes shattered, sometimes jagged edges that had the habit of leaving little knicks along hearts and skin. The easier way to say it was that they had fought.

Morrison fought in a cloud of smoke, sometimes sober, sometimes drunk. His outfit was always crisp, but his eyes would be bleary, like the false sheen of tears. He tried not to yell, but Nasir thought that maybe Morrison didn’t realize how loud he was actually being.

Nasir didn’t have the strength to yell and when they argued, he always found himself struggling through a haze of tears. There was a fear to it, the wariness of holding back the darkness and demonic that scratched beneath his false body. He had to fight to be kind. Maybe that was what brought the tears to his eyes.

“Sunshine,” Morrison would always say when it was over. When he was sober again, eyes no longer rimmed with red and breath no longer stinking of alcohol. When Nasir came home, smelling like sunshine and smoke, Irie’s hands still lingered on his back from where she’d hugged him as he cried into her cloak.

“I’m sorry,” Nasir always said first, even when he had every right to be mad.

“Me too,” Morrison always replied and what came next was dependent on the argument, sorry for throwing himself into danger, sorry for almost not coming home, sorry for how he’d hurt Irie. Sorry. They were often sorry together.

That night, Nasir held Morrison close, his boyfriend’s head against his chest. Morrison muttered, “but here we are, after all the messes and confessions.”

“Here we are,” whispered Nasir and kissed him gently. And just like all the other fights, it was over.


	2. On the Night We Met by Lord Huron - Jez/Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo drinks alone in a bar and mourns the death of the second love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to bounce back and forth between fluff adjacent and angst, so here's some angst. I think this might be my favorite? But that's just who I am as a person.
> 
> If it wasn't obvious, none of these are connected, they're all their own thing.
> 
> Anyway, I highly recommend listening to the songs in this "playlist," most were recommended by my players. (The last 3 are my picks, but we're a long way off from that.) I'll be uploading this sporadically, it's done though, in my nice folder.
> 
> I'll stop rambling on now, please enjoy another short chapter!

He rolls a glass of whiskey between metal fingers and listens to the way they scrape against the glass. The liquor glistens a deep brown with flecks of gold, so unlike the shade of her eyes. He blinks and sees her waving at him from the bottom of the drink and he drains it. His tears stain the wood of the bar. Jezabel is dead.

The empty cup hits too hard on the wood and the sound resonates like the hangover he’s bound to have in the morning. The bartender adds more whiskey. They don’t speak. _Take me back to the night we met_ , Leo thinks and finishes off another shot.

The room flickers. He sees her raven hair tumbling down her back as she sweeps off her infamous top hat. Her eyes glint with mischief and her lips form into that infamous Jezabel smirk. The light glints and he sees coffee dregs, too dark brandy in her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak and a thin line of blood runs from her mouth. She’s still. Pale. Cold. Unmoving.

 _Across the universe and back_ , they’d said. They’d never made it to the first silver star. Her revolvers glinted with moonlight, the jagged edges of her blades in her hands. Her hair is splayed behind her like the pitch black of night. Of death. She doesn’t wake up when he desperately calls her name. She doesn’t wake up when he presses a kiss to cold lips. The alcohol burns as he swallows it. The ice of her skin leaves a different burn and an endless ache. Leo floats away and tries to remember the sound of her laugh and the teasing arch of her brows.

 _Come back. Please Jez, just come back. Or let me do it all over again_ . _Take me back to the night we met._

Leo doesn’t leave the bar and Jez doesn’t leave her grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that anyone was wondering, but Leo belongs to my lovely friend who lets me borrow him, you can find them [here](https://aviaviator.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> This fic will get sporadic updates, it sure is done, it's just the matter of posting it. I think next there's some fluff up? I might also be completely wrong.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	3. Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine - Blythe/Magnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blythe and Magnus have a quiet conversation that leads to some confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still in a tangent to fluff, I think the angst comes in a few chapters later... Anyway, I usually kill of Magnus, so for once he's nice and alive! Their romance is always changing, this is actually a scene I wrote that's similar to something that happened to the character that Magnus was originally based off of. Since then, he's kind of just become my own.
> 
> Please enjoy another short chapter!

“What are you doing?” Blythe hissed. He was too close in the confines of the alcove. The bust on its pedestal tilted precariously from where her hip had bumped in when Magnus had dragged her into the dark. He held a finger to his lips and she focused her gaze steadily on his eyes instead of his mouth. The figure beyond their hiding place passed. Her heart thudded improperly.

“I don’t know,” Magnus admitted when they were alone. His voice was thick with gravel, a bite and a rumble like a brewing snowstorm. Her skin prickled. He ran a hand raggedly through his hair.“There’s a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you’re around.”

“What?” She blinked and risked a half-step closer. Her fingers idly brushed his skin. His eyes were clear and bright, breath free of alcohol, skin a comforting warm, but nothing that might denote a fever. Perhaps he was just delusional. Was this really Magnus, the same boy that had watched his father scorn her at dinner and kept only the same cold and cruel expression on his lips?  **_(_ ** The same boy that had led her into the dance in the town square accidentally and left her hopelessly breathless and spinning out of control?  **_)_ **

“You make me-I… I can’t think straight when I see you.” He was rigid, holding himself back. But from what? “You’re a sound that I can’t drown out.”

“Lord Ayre, I’d thank you kindly not to toy with me.” She replied stiffly. He never had a kind word for anyone, why this? Why her? Why now?  **_(_ ** Except for when the boy in the square had jeered orphan and Magnus had spun to defend her, except for when he’d once gotten too drunk and called her more beautiful than starlight, except for…  **_)_ **

“Miss Blythe, I wouldn’t dare.” Their knuckles brushed. His eyes lashed grey and whipped a fury of wind that made a shiver crawl up her spine. She tried not to smile or fall in love.

“Magnus,” his father called and the moment was over as he stepped toward what they both thought was the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd be uploading something soon for my friend, but in reality, as escapism from the real world and to go with a Halloween theme (yes, I know it's November), I have a new horror fic coming soon based off of a recent one-shot! The first chapter is done, I might upload it after I finish the second. It's not going to be crazy long, I think, but I'm excited for it! I will upload that thing for my friend eventually and I have several other longer fics in the works that I've been meaning to finish...
> 
> Also, thank you so much to anyone that's subscribed, read, given me kudos on any of my fics, you've all really made my day! Thank you all, hope you all have a good week even in our stressful world!


	4. Sunkissed by Khai Dreams - Irie and Nasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir wants to write a poem for his wedding anniversary, Irie just wants some peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive, have some fluff! I'm still uploading this fic, school is just kicking my butt right now, I'll try and upload it a little more often. I really don't have any comments on this chapter other than it's very cute and I like their friendship.
> 
> Please enjoy!

“It’s so lovely loving you.” Nasir paused and tapped his pen against the inkwell. “What do you think?”

“It’s disgusting,” Irie grunted.

“It’s our anniversary!” Nasir argued. “And I thought trying to write Morrison a poem would be a lovely gesture.”

“Stop using that word.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. 

“What,  _ lovely _ ?” Nasir repeated and leaned closer. “Looooooovely!” He turned it into a trill that rang out over the rooftops and pinged off the chimneys. Irie wrinkled her nose.

“I will throw you off the roof,” she said and it came out cold. 

“No, you won’t,” he pressed with more confidence than should have been allowed. His smile grew quiet and his brows knit as his lips retraced the poem under his breath. His cheeks flushed softly as he looked back up towards her with limitless pale blue eyes. “Honestly?” he began and then his gaze darted away. Irie straightened her spine and listened. “What do you think? Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Nasir, if you so much as looked at it, he’ll like it,” Irie replied and rolled her eyes. Nasir frowned and his fingers tugged at a persistent lock of dark hair against his forehead. She tried again, the words rolling uncomfortably off her tongue. “He’ll like it. It’s… sincere and sweet. Exactly what he loves about you.”

“Promise?” Here came the eyes again, pleading and soft, innocent. Sweet. Baby blue eyes. Irie sighed.

“Promise. You’re still too good for him.”

“Oh, Irie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am very much not dead, just buried under work right now... I have a couple other fics in the works I'm hoping to have up soon? I'm about halfway done with one of them, and then I have one for my friend that's on the list of things to do. Hopefully I'll get back into writing more once the semester ends. 
> 
> Also, I am aware that my notes are like? Longer than the chapters, I am so sorry, please ignore me.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to all the lovely people reading these fics!


	5. You Belong to Me by Courtnee Draper - Arabella/Nellie/Eliza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arabella says goodbye when Eliza and Nellie depart for America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am gonna get better at uploading these chapters! I admit, I'm more on tumblr lately on my rp blog... But I have been working on my other project between essays, so I hope I can start posting it soon and move on to some other fics. I am gonna try and be better about posting chapters and such, promise.
> 
> Please enjoy a wonderful lesbian ot3!

They stood on the docks. It was cold, poetically so. Eliza would like that and the gray London sky. She would say that it was fitting for a goodbye. In books, goodbyes were always on cloudy days or in the rain or in the cold. You didn’t say goodbye in the sunshine, it wasn’t right. That was what Eliza would always say.

“I wish it was raining,” Eliza said and gazed up at the clouds. Her lavender shawl contrasted horribly with her red hair. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“I’m glad it’s not,” Nellie said and wrinkled her nose. With her head held high, she somehow managed to look the part of both the explorer and the princess. Arabella liked the way she was easily brave and true. She was like one of Eliza’s heroines, like something out of Jane Austen or Charles Dickens novel. It made it easy to admire her and harder to believe that she was real.

Arabella let out a breath and ran a hand through mangled locks. Stray leaf crumbs tumbled from her mane and she straightened her spine like it didn’t matter. It seemed even Nellie’s castle and its baths couldn’t quite tame the wolf out of her. Nellie shifted her feet and Eliza gazed out distantly towards the ship.

Arabella slung an arm first around Eliza’s shoulders, the second around Nellie’s waist and pulled them both close. A kiss went to each, lips first, then the top of their heads. For safety. Eliza smelled like a library, Nellie like something floral. Lilacs maybe. Or lilies. She kept her tone quiet and growled, “Just remember till you’re home again, you belong to me.”

“So possessive,” Eliza tutted and booped her on the nose.

“What?” Nellie said hopelessly.

“You’re mine. Both of you. And I suppose I’m yours too.” Arabella released them abruptly and stepped away. She didn’t like goodbyes. They felt final. This felt final. She felt needles prick her eyes and turned away. “I hope it rains when you come back.”

“Well that’s not right at all!” Eliza called after her. 

From the safety of the crowded wharf, she watched their ship depart so they didn’t know that she was already waiting for it to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I think we'll finally be back to some angst next chapter...


	6. Never Tear Us Apart by Paloma Faith - Blythe/Magnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blythe revisits the place that Magnus died and suffers from the bad memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters uploaded in 1 day (the other one is for a different fic) because I felt guilty that I'm behind on some of these. So here you go, have another chapter, it is Angst. Trigger warnings for a lot of past references to death/violence.
> 
> I hope you like it!

She stands among the cells. Something drips in the dark. The blood is dried. The magic is gone, but the symbols remain. Her tome feels heavy in her fingers. This is an odd place to say goodbye. She can’t say it to his grave, somehow that feels more final than the place he died. Maybe it’s because that’s where he rests. He doesn’t rest here, but her heart does.

“I was standing,” she says and takes her place in the shadows of footprints. “You were there.” Her eyes don’t close. His phantom figure takes its place and in her imagination, Finnegan places the gun to the back of his head. She doesn’t cry, only clutches the book harder in her hands. The pages leave grooves. She bites down and doesn’t scream.

She falls to her knees softly. Her dress pools around her, an endless tide to take her away and drown her. Frost clings to the edges and the room is cold. His blood looks almost new, fresh. There’s a copper taste on her tongue and in the air. Fire burns in her eyes and she resists the urge to let it out just to watch something burn. “Two worlds collided,” Blythe whispers. “And they could never tear us apart.” 

But they did. They had. Her vision swims, the gunshot sounds, a burst of flame dances along her arms uncontrollably. The blood is dark and polished, marble, a night sky. She’s trying not to cry or scream. His body hits the floor and the world is back to cold and dark. 

“I’ll make this right, Magnus,” she says. “No matter what it takes, I’ll make this right.” She rises and lets the ashes fall from her skin. Tears line the cracks of her facade and she brushes them away. The shawl slips from her shoulders and she leaves it behind. Among the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to try and say when I'll update this next... Hopefully soon. Again, it's finished, I'm just horrible at updating it. Fingers crossed it's sometime soon, I'll try and get into the habit of uploading a chapter once a week, but it may or may not be a long shot.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, as always! And if this project gets a sister fic, I apologize in advance for how many Taylor Swift songs will be on there.


	7. Scotty Doesn't Know by Lustra - Finnegan/Irie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irie and Finnegan kiss first, fight second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am getting better about posting very slowly! Hopefully, I'll finish the other chapter I'm working on tonight and have something else to put up tomorrow. 
> 
> Anyway, this is a crack fic because my friend who said to do this song purposefully tried to trip me up, so I just had to come up with something. And voila! I hope you enjoy it!

“If you tell anyone about this, especially Leonora, I’ll fucking kill you,” Irie said darkly and shoved him away. Her lips burned. Her face probably did too. She crossed her arms over her chest and went to stand in the doorway just so they didn’t share a space.

“Leonora doesn’t know, Leonora doesn’t know, Leonora doesn’t know!” He paused and cocked his head towards her. She was not amused. “Have you never heard this song?”

“Finnegan, I swear to God, I’ll rip off your balls and shove them up your asshole.” Irie shot him the hardest glare she could muster and remained on the opposite side of the room. She pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt, hand accidentally brushing her lips. The kiss hadn’t felt spiteful or angry. It had almost felt nice. She wanted to murder him. 

“It’s from an old movie. Deidre likes the part where they live in the fancy hotel.” He put his feet up on the coffee table. She tried to focus on something other than the shock of his red hair in her dorm room or the fact that the bastard had actually kissed her and she’d kissed him back. Was he on crack? Probably. Why the ever loving fuck had she kissed him back? Maybe he’d drugged her. If only things were that simple. Ug.

“Surprise, I don’t care.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. When he smiled at her lopsidedly, she watched four of his eighteen freckles vanish like magic. When the fuck had she counted his freckles? She was starting to sound like Nasir or maybe Eliza. Would jumping out the window at this point be a blessing or a curse?

“We could watch it. You know, the movie.” Finnegan suggested. He was still sitting on her couch.

“Get out of my dorm.” Irie snarled, turned on her heel, and then locked herself inside of her bedroom. The window was looking better and better. She heard him leave and vaguely realized that maybe, just a little bit, she hadn’t really wanted him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!


	8. Thank God That I'm Not You by Himalayas - Irie and Nasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irie and Nasir trade barbs and don't hesitate to hit one another's weak spots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that I updated this a week ago and am updating again now is actually a miracle. I just had a gut feeling it'd been a while and was like whelp time to add a chapter. Anyway, I'm back with some minor angst, love best friends fighting. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

“Demon,” she said quietly and that was what made it hurt.

“Coward,” he spat back and watched her subtly flinch in reply. “Thank God I’m not you.”

“No,” she replied and stepped forward, lifting her chin, as if its sharp edges could cut his words to pieces. He wasn’t even sure what she was saying no to. Maybe she didn’t either.

“Yes,” he pressed. “You push people away, you don’t let anyone in, and you don’t care who you hurt to do it.” Tears pricked his eyes. The words wouldn’t stop coming and something under his skin bubbled and relished in them. “You deserve to be alone.” The words came out a hiss. His veins stood out black against his skin, the cruelty he’d tried so hard to bury coming back to choke him. Irie stood so still. She didn’t look alive. He wanted to taste regret and felt only bitterness on his tongue. It was wrong.

“Fine,” Irie said. Her lips barely moved and those blue eyes were the darkening depths of the ocean. Something swam closer to the surface and looked like it might lunge out and bite him. “Go back to Morrison.” She managed to twist it into an insult. “He’s forgiving enough to love you through anything.” When she spun on her heel, her cape whipped and slashed through the air. She drew up her hood like it was armor and didn’t cast him a glance as she strode away.

The poison of his own words ate at his heart and Nasir sank to his knees as the tears bubbled over and ruined the rest of their lunch date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to finally be halfway through uploading this fic. Maybe I'll actually finish it one day. I'm also finally nearing the finish line of my other lengthy project, hopefully my brain rot will die down enough that I can start something else that isn't about my own characters. The chances are slim, but I can dream. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading as always! Happy belated holidays and happy almost new year! May it be less cursed than this one.


	9. Mine by Bazzi - Arabella/Eliza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza doesn't have to try very hard to convince Arabella to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news, I'm still terrible at updating this fic, but at least I finished the other one. I'll finish this one someday, we're getting there. Anyway, enjoy some very soft lesbians.

“Just lay with me, waste this night away with me.” Eliza whispered. Arabella said nothing and let her fingers grace Eliza’s fine skin, nearly porcelain, sliced starlight, crushed silver. Red hair that reminded her of a fox pelt. A poetic carving of a woman. Stunning. Beautiful. Ethereal. On their bed of grass, Arabella tied spring dandelion weeds into her lover’s hair.

“Eliza,” Arabella began. Her eyes darted up to the rising moon slitted through forest leaves. A gnarled sigh escaped her mouth.

“Please,” Eliza begged and turned her green eyes towards Arabella. Saying no to her would be like telling the moon not to rise as the sun set. The next sigh came out as a brambled growl. Eliza beamed.

“I’m supposed to be doing work,” Arabella pressed. She made no effort to get up and sat up to have a longer reach for plucking dandelions. There was at least a solid five raining down her hair in scattered showers. They looked like gentle candles aglow on a sea of fire. 

“Oh please, Bella, you had no intention of doing it anyway,” Eliza teased. She raised a hand and pressed it against Arabella’s own cheek. It was cold, soft, and unblemished.

Arabella grunted in reply and led a finger down her girlfriend’s spine just to feel her shiver. She leaned in close, letting cracked lips brush the shell of her ear. The words came out in a hard whisper. “You’re mine. I can’t look away.”

“Entirely yours,” Eliza answered. “Every piece of me belongs to every inch of you.” Eliza turned her head and her soft lips grazed Arabella’s skin. 

“My moon,” Arabella said and dragged Eliza back onto the grass, letting the dandelions bleed beneath them in their own little patch of sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we go into the second half of these ficlets, I'll be posting some of my favorites, I'm very excited. Also, keep an eye out for my latest project that is miraculously not about my own characters, in a shocking twist. We'll see how it goes, maybe I'll be inspired to try my hand at a few more? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the latest installment and 2021 is treating everyone well!


	10. Rest in Peace by James Marsters - Blythe and Nasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir tries to apologize to Blythe for the death of her husband, but things aren't that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honest to God, I have like 9 tabs open right now full of things I'm supposed to be working on, so I'm just posting this so I can say I finished something. I also should be working on that fic I promise eons ago, but I do not have enough information and cannot find the energy to spend several hours researching on YouTube. ...this has nothing to do with this very short angsty chapter.
> 
> Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy!

He had brought flowers. Carnations. Leonora said they meant mourning and grief. It’s what you gave to someone when you were sorry. And when someone had died. He hoped they’d be enough when he was trying to say both.

Morrison didn’t know he was going. His fiancé would have tried to talk him out of it. It wasn’t lying, Irie had said, it was just a secret. Secrets weren’t so bad. Everybody needed secrets. Nasir didn’t think that much was true, he’d watched them poison people from the inside out. But he couldn’t say it, couldn’t watch Morrison panic and try to stop him or get in the way. He could do this. He had to.

He knocked on the door softly and held his breath. The Witch’s Brew sign swung in the wind. It was something like a cemetery here. 

She shuffled somewhere in the shop and opened the door only a crack. Beyond, the shop wasn’t filled with its normal clutter and boxes were stacked around the floor. Her eyes were not rimmed with red, but bags hung heavy. Her lips were pinched at the corners and her hair was lank. Nasir tried on a small smile and thrust forward the bouquet.

“Blythe, I-” he began quietly, intending to recite the speech he’d practiced in front of Irie for hours. She’d said this was a bad idea. In retrospect, he should have listened.

“Don’t.” Blythe answered. She looked at him with something like glacial eyes, brown shot with silver strands.  _ Magic _ .

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. She didn’t touch the flowers. “If I could have-”

“I said don’t.” A frigid wind whipped between them and stung his cheeks. Her hair didn’t stir. “I know you didn’t mean it and I know you didn’t have a choice. I know. You can’t fix this. He still died.  _ For you _ . And I can’t forget that.”  **_(_ ** Or  _ forgive  _ that.  **_)_ **

“Please.” Tears hovered on his lower lashes and trembled on the brink of falling. “I’m sorry. You’re hurting and I want to help.”

“You can’t.” It came out as a hiss. She turned away from him and he wondered if she was going to cry. The next words were softer, weaker. “If my heart could beat, it would break my chest. You can’t fix that. No one can.” Blythe closed the door. Nasir let the flowers fall first and then his tears as he walked away, still more sorry than he could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm hoping to actually finish something for a fandom that isn't mine, but we'll see. I swear that I'm trying, it's just not going too well lol. Regardless, I hope you're all doing well!


	11. Bite by Troye Sivan - Jez/Dustin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jezabel has a nightmare and Dustin does what he can to comfort her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple quick apologies. Sorry that the last chapter triple posted, I was having issues with archive that day and didn't realize that it had posted more than once. Also, as usual, sorry for being impossibly slow on this fic. Eventually, some day, I'll finish posting it.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy today's short installment!

Dustin had listened to her breathing ease, sleep carrying her further away. He smoothed the hair from her brow, watching the moonlight glint first off of a crown of dark thorns, then pale skin. Her head was heavy against his heart. He forced his eyes open to guard her sleep.

There was something akin to softness that settled over her expression like a blanket. Her brows released their deep furrow, her lips relaxing into the beginnings of a smile, her fingers slowing unclenching from where they’d bunched in the covers as if she was letting go of a hilt. She whispered cutting breaths between barely parted lips and the feel of her danced across his skin. He traced affirmations against her back like spells to ward off the darkness. The darkness came anyway.

The throes of the nightmare started the same as always. Her fingers twitched against imaginary triggers then tightened into fists. Her breathing became a rasp and sweat pooled against the back of her neck. Before she could thrash against the shadows of past chains, he would call her name into empty darkness and the pale remnants of stars.

“Jez,” he murmured and kept his grip loose. When she struggled, he relented so she could break free and suck in unrestrained breaths. “Jez, wake up.”

Her eyes snapped open. It was like staring at the overturned dirt atop a grave. She bared her teeth, fist coiled to lunge forward, hair gleaming like a dagger. He dimly realized she was crouched on the bed, glaring at his vulnerable form, trying to decipher him in the darkness.

“Jez,” he tried again. Her name fit snugly on his lips and lingered there. 

She sagged into the blankets and he stretched out an arm to catch her. The flat of her palm found his heartbeat and she balanced there, as if waiting for a message only it could tell her. They were quiet together for a long moment. He dug deeper into the words hiding in her eyes.

“Kiss me on the mouth and set me free,” Jezabel said.

He let his gaze probe her when his words wouldn’t. She did not bend or break or open. He obliged and felt her fears take flight. She reached past peace and snatched a little shred of freedom from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and putting up with my slow ass. The project for my friend is... it's going. It sure is. Who knows if I'll ever finish or post it, maybe the first chapter at some point. 
> 
> I'm between projects right now, but you can always find me on my tumblr blog, over [here](https://intcashes.tumblr.com/). Thank you for reading and I hope to have the next chapter up at some point in the near-ish future!


	12. Nicotine by Panic! At the Disco - Leonora/Dorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonora and Dorian have a one-sided discussion after they have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologize, but it's kind of become established that I'm terrible about updating this fic. While I've started a few projects, none of them have gotten very far, so who knows what I'll work on next. I'm over on my tumblr a lot more lately, so we'll see what happens.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy one of my favorite chapters and shoutout to [my beautiful friend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701) for letting me borrow Leonora!

“Damn your kiss and the awful things you do,” Leonora scoffed. She fiddled with her pearl necklace, rolling it between her fingers. It was the only thing she still wore. Her clothes made for a fine rug, strewn broadly across the floor. Dorian swirled his glass of wine slowly. It beat red like its own heart.

“You were hardly damning me a few moments ago,” he drawled. “Screaming? Certainly. Damning? I’m afraid not.”

“Shut up, Dorian.” Leonora said. He detected the forced harsh bite, the reluctant attack. Dorian rolled his eyes and took a languid sip of his wine.

“Why the games, Miss Sitari?” He raised a brow above the rim and stretched out among the satin pillows. “Is it because you’re addicted?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” she answered and cringed. Her eyes tracked his movement before darting away to the bottle of alcohol poised on the edge of the table. She swam through the disarray to reach it, swatting aside the card with her name traced in refined swirls. She uncorked it with one quick action and raised the bottle to her lips for a deep swig.

“Miss Sitari, that mouth of yours has a great many talents. Lying is not one of them.” He paused and set his glass aside, letting the quiet  _ clink  _ fill the air for dramatic effect. “You, my dear, need me. You think that your…  _ occasional  _ husband can sate you? He doesn’t remember you. Let us be truthful with one another, if not to me, where else could you run?” He wanted her to flinch, yet still smiled when she didn’t. 

She swallowed her wine with a thick gulp and dragged the back of her hand across her lips. A drop slid down the bare skin of her arm and Dorian watched it with an easy interest. “Damn your kiss and the awful things you say,” Leonora replied with a good amount of bite. She muttered something under her breath that was likely a curse in Romanian. He liked that she was unbreakable, but easy to unravel. “Your ego must be inflated for you to think that you’re important to me.”

He laughed smoothly and stood to cross the room to her side. “Oh, Miss Sitari, I would never make that mistake.” He dipped a finger in her wine, then slid it down the side of her neck to hear her moan.

“It’s Mrs. Highmore to you.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want.” Dorian smiled and leaned down to make her come apart in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! I'll be sure to finish this fic eventually and then I'll probably just post one-shots because I obviously can't be relied on when it comes to chapters... I hope you all have a lovely week!


	13. From Eden by Hozier - Irie/Caprice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing escape, Caprice finds an injured Irie overlooking the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Here I am with another slow update! We're almost done, thank goodness. I honestly also think that this is the longest chapter of the bunch.
> 
> So some quick notes: I know Irie says don't a few times but it's not in the "don't touch me" way, it's in the "don't make me feel things" way. This is just for clarification, if she told Caprice to stop, he would, he's a good boy. I haven't given the other chapters much context, but this one I feel like I need to. Irie's injured after being tortured aboard a pirate ship, the party escaped, but barely. That's why her clothes and such are torn, also the boat is a magic paper boat because dungeons and dragons.
> 
> Okay, this note is like longer than the chapter, but please enjoy!

She shouldn’t have been moving, let alone draped against the railing of the paper boat, feet dangling above the waves stretching up to steal her. Her infamous cloak was still pooled around Rhome’s shoulders, scraps of mismatched cloth, paper, and clothing covering the wounds marring her dark skin. It was almost impossible to distinguish what was blood and what was grime. Rhome had done his best and it was still far from enough. She would never admit that, but she didn’t have to. Not to him. Probably not to anyone.

Thalia and Cassie had taken the wheel, Eliza’s quill in hand as they traced routes on the railings according to the thin light of the stars. Eliza stood nearby, her consultations carrying on the open water. Jezabel and Leonardo joked above in the rigging, their words and laughter in harmony with the flap of the sails.The others had collapsed in exhausted heaps: Briar, Don, and Rhome against the bow with the wolf covering the men like a blanket, Leonora with Sebastian in her lap leaning against the main mast, Isra and Kit in the crow’s nest, the rest somewhere below in the crowded section that might have been the cargo hold. Caprice took his life into his own hands and stood at the railing beside Irie.

They didn’t speak. Her eyes were half-closed, heavy lids and a far away stare on the endless churning sea. Ocean spray crested the unraveled waves of her hair and formed a gentle halo. Goosebumps mingled with clotted blood down the dark briard paths of her skin. Her clothes were closer to rags and hung limply like poor bandages. Caprice hesitated, then lifted his shirt above his head and held it out to her. She turned to him with a clenched jaw and hard set to her eyes. The dark blue reminded him of the stories of glaciers, frozen and forgotten, another world beneath the sunshine and snow. He found himself wanting to swim deeper, but remained rooted to the spot, waiting for her.

“Don’t.” Her voice was cracked and broken, an effort to speak. She coughed and tried again. “I don’t want it.”

He didn’t move. “Do you need it?”

Her glare was hard in reply and he took it as an invitation to step closer. “No, I don’t fucking need anything.”

Caprice shook his head and crouched beside her, setting the shirt in her lap. She looked like she might slit his throat with a shred of paper from the railing. After a long moment of hesitation, she let out a low growl and pulled the shirt on over her head. The soft white harshened her features and the fabric draped awkwardly over her frame, unsure of how to fit. The wind teased her mangled braid and stray strands floated over her cheeks.

“There’s something tragic about you,” he said quietly. He tried not to eye the bloody patches of wounds or scars laced across her body like she’d been sewn together. Which were more prominent, the ones on her surface or those hidden in the hollows of her bones and the vacant cavities in between? He dared to think that maybe he understood her as no one else did, and yet, Irie remained an infinite mystery. 

“Something so…  _ magic  _ about you,” he continued, treading the thin line between careful wording and the reckless energy she gave him. He’d spoken more to her in a week than he had to anyone in a year. Maybe that was part of her magic. 

“Don’t.” She tensed the word. A relative to vulnerability furrowed her brows and tugged at the corners of her mouth. How could she look so strong standing in the brig, ready to die for people she barely knew, yet here in the quiet she just looked alone? What about her drew him closer?

Caprice reached a hand towards her and she stilled. He held his breath and thought maybe she did too. His fingers brushed against her cheek and she retaliated, her hand clamped around his wrist, likely ready to break his arm or cut off his hand. He offered her the barest of smiles and pressed forward, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. It was softer than he’d imagined. Her hand was vice like, but she didn’t resist him either. His fingers lingered by the shell of her ear, his thumb just above the skin of her cheek. Her grip tightened dangerously. They remained frozen in place for a long moment, each waiting for the other to give in or push further.

He pulled back at the same time she released him. If the movement hurt her, she gave no sign, and instead slung her arm back over the railing. “When do you want your shirt back?” Irie asked and turned her gaze away from him and back to the sea.

“When you don’t need it anymore.” He rose and left, daring to look back only once before he descended to the lower decks. To his surprise, he caught her staring, something like a smile lingering on her mouth, before she was swallowed by a midnight sky and a starlit sea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you very much for reading! I finished something for my friend and I'm still debating whether or not I'll post it honestly? I would like to, but I'm not sure how well it'll go over. 
> 
> Anyway, have a lovely week? Couple of weeks? Have a lovely mystery amount of time until I update this fic again!


	14. Avalanche by Walk the Moon - Blythe/Magnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blythe, an EMT, and Magnus, a firefighter, respond to a 911 call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I may or may not have started the sequel to this fic before I finished posting the original. I'm going to try and bust out the last couple of chapters in the next few days so I can feel less guilty when I start posting the sequel.
> 
> I think this is the shortest chapter of the group? If not the shortest, it's definitely up there, but yes, please enjoy!

_ Sometimes you only get one chance. _

It’d been burning for too long. The firefighters weren’t saying it, but it was clear in the way they moved, an explosive scurry of movement. They’d freed the hoses and gotten to work, but she’d been on site enough to know it might not be enough. Sometimes it was just too late.

_You only_ _get one chance._

Blythe reached the family. “My daughter, the oldest,” the mother said and pleaded at her with big brown eyes.

“Ma’am-” Blythe began steadily, a soothing hand reaching for her.

“Our best is on it,” someone answered. James, Blythe would realize later. It had been James. “Magnus will get her out.” The worry choked and twisted in her throat, but she swallowed it and only smiled. In the business of saving people, there wasn’t time to think about herself.

“It’ll be okay,” Blythe told them and got out the masks to clear their lungs from the smoke. She only looked at the burning house once, but never stopped feeling its presence behind her. Later, she would wish she’d never let her eyes leave it.

_You get_ _one chance._

The commotion drew her attention as something crashed through a broken window on the ground floor. Blythe turned to check, watched a firefighter from the crowd take the form towards her coworker, Abbi, with the stretcher. There was a figure still in the house, a dark nameless shape whose eyes had found hers. And Blythe knew before it happened. The house creaked, screeched, tilted. She clung to a gaze beyond the smoke and prayed. It wasn’t enough. Sometimes it was just too late.

One glance. And the avalanche dropped. One look. She knew his heartbeat had stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Fun fact, this is actually my least favorite chapter now that I'm re-reading it. It's probably because I was trying to do something different stylistically. Maybe I'll redo it someday. But yes, cross your fingers for me that I can get the rest of this fic up in a timely manner
> 
> Thank you as always!


	15. Better Man by 5 Seconds of Summer - Morrison/Nasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir has a secret and struggles with telling Morrison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna write a new chapter for the sequel to this fic instead, but homework and time got the better of me. Which in the long run is also probably for the better as that way I can finally finish posting this fic so it's done and over with. I do love it! But I sure wish I had finished posting it eons ago.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy a little Morrison and Nasir on their honeymoon!

“Morrison, love, can I tell you something?” Nasir asked and propped himself up on his elbow. Morrison was lying beside him, the Italian sun having left glancing blows of sunburn on his shoulders and the back of his neck. Nasir resisted the urge to poke them just to make Morrison groan and complain… maybe only a little bit to get him out of this hole he’d begun to dig.

“Of course you can, Sunshine,” Morrison answered and there was something serious in his expression, almost like his husband knew. The words came easily to Nasir’s lips and rested on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated, not even sure of why. It wasn’t like Morrison would care what kind of demon he was. It wasn’t like it would matter. But somehow it felt like it would and did. And he hadn’t asked, it’d probably never crossed his mind. Yet what Nasir had to say felt like something between a secret and an unuttered lie. 

He surrendered to instinct and let something else take over. “I thought I’d never change, then you come and change it all.” His cheeks flushed pink, either from the embarrassment of swallowing the first confession or the effort of saying the second. “You make me a better per- demon.”

“Person,” Morrison said and Nasir had never seen him more serious, save for perhaps when he had made the all important promise. “I don’t see you as a demon.”

“But I am.” Nasir argued before Morrison silenced him with a firm kiss.

“No, you’re my husband.”

“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Morrison let out a sigh, but it bordered closer to amusement. “If anything, Sunshine, you make me the better man.”

“Impossible,” Nasir said hopelessly. “You’re perfect.”

“Oh Sunshine.” Morrison shook his head in that  _ of course you’d say that, you don’t know any better _ manner, as if Nasir didn’t know the man he married.  **_(_ ** Maybe he didn’t, that crossed his mind too, but those thoughts weren’t made for honeymoons.  **_)_ ** Instead, he let his husband pull the blankets over their heads to demonstrate the real meaning of perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hopefully this fic will be done soon so all of my energy can go into the sequel.


	16. Mars by Travis Van Hoff - Jez/Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo surprises Jez and himself with an important question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the end! Hooray! I honestly have the sequel pulled up in another tab, so if you enjoy these little snippets, worry not, I'm writing more. If you're interested, check out the other fic, it's called The Lyrics I Wrote For You.
> 
> But yes! This is my favorite chapter based on a song that my brother actually sent me. It's super good, definitely give it a listen (and the other songs on this playlist of course)!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read this far and waited patiently between my slow updates. Please enjoy the final installment!

They met, for what seemed like the first time, under the endless expanse of the universe. She waited beyond the lit fire, top hat tipped over her eyes, hands stuffed deep into her pockets. She smiled when she saw him and Leo thought he might trade every star in the night sky to keep it on her face.

The first couple of hours passed, a bottle of whiskey in the dirt between them three quarters full, Arthur’s duster draped around her shoulders, their hats cast aside so they could see each other properly. He’d brought his guitar and his courage, so he settled the first on his lap and second in his mouth.

“I wrote ya a song,” Leo said and Jezabel quirked an amused brow.

“Wow, Mr. Monguel, pulling out all the stops to make a girl feel special,” she grinned and leaned back to watch.

He strummed and let the song carry them both away, watching the firelight flicker off the Earth of her eyes. The minutes lasted forever, give or take a few seconds, before the last words chorused with the rest of the world. “We can make it to Mars, lead the fire in the dark, maybe find a place out in where stars don't try to blow each other up...” She’d never looked more perfect. And maybe that was why he added a new line that hadn’t been imagined, let alone written. “Jezabelwouldyamarryme?”

“What?” She blinked, once, twice. 

He tried to move the guitar aside to get down on one knee. She was still staring at him, unmoving. Was that good or bad? He ended up on both knees, the guitar crooked on his back. “Would ya- ah- marry me?” 

Jezabel laughed and he flushed. Thoughts of how to play the whole thing off ended when she pressed a hard kiss to his lips. “Did you honestly just propose to me without a ring?”

“It uhhh slipped my mind,” he answered and ran a hand through her hair. A  _ ring _ . He knew he’d forgotten something. “Is that a yes?”

“Depends,” she said with a teasing peck to the tip of his nose. “What am I saying yes to?”  
“Running away with me. Running free with me. Towards a new adventure.” He pressed a hand to her cheek and watched her eyes blaze like twin comets. “We’ll go across the universe.”

“And back?”

“And back.”

“Yes, Leonardo Monguel, I’ll marry you. Probably after you get me a ring.”

He laughed and she kissed him and maybe that was the start of a happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to anyone who read this little fic!!! I appreciate every hit and kudos! If anyone's interested, I can also be found on my tumblr blog here: [brekkingin](https://brekkingin.tumblr.com/). Feel free to come talk to me there anytime!
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading! (I'm just glad I can stop forgetting to post another chapter for this fic...)


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